


You Taste Like Tea

by dierdele



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: John is nervous, Kyle is adorable and cheeky, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:44:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dierdele/pseuds/dierdele
Summary: Christmas is all about telling people how you really feel. Or, John gets Kyle for Secret Santa and pours his heart into a teapot.





	You Taste Like Tea

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of my Ficmas chapters! It's now been revisited, rewritten, and extended!

Somewhere in Barnsley, on the 18th December, John Stones paces his kitchen, sighs dramatically, and glances at the green tea pot that sits silently on the kitchen table in the middle of the room. 

He runs a hand through is hair and exhales before scratching the hollow of his cheek.  _ Why is this so difficult? _

Why couldn’t he have just got someone else for Secret Santa? Someone easy to buy for, someone like Harry Kane. Harry would have been happy with literally anything. He’d be over the moon at a pair of personalised socks or an England mug. Or Dele? If John had gotten Dele, he’d have bought him an exclusive Fortnite skin and a hamper full of fizzy Haribo sweets, popcorn, and Smartie cookies. Even Trippier would have been easy. Some sort of funky LED Playstation 4 controller would have been perfect for him. 

But no. John had to get Kyle, didn’t he? Because of  _ course  _ he gets Kyle. His best friend in the whole world who, hypothetically, should be the easiest person in the whole world. And yet, he’s far from it. Why? Because now John has to impress him. Now John has to think of something clever and witty and funny, or else he looks like a terrible friend. He has to get something that makes everyone roll their eyes because it’s so  _ them.  _

So why on earth has he bought Kyle a green tea pot?

John sighs, louder this time, and walks over to the kitchen table to inspect the tea pot for the hundredth time. 

It’s a mossy, ‘spring’ green, as the website had said. Just your typical, traditional teapot made out of porcelain. Shiny and sort of heavy but looks like it would make a great cup of tea. 

And Kyle loves tea.

_ Right?  _

John feels panic flutter in his chest.  _ Does Kyle love tea?  _ Yes. He reassures himself that Kyle definitely loves tea. He’s a Yorkshireman. They drink it all the time. In fact, they both had it yesterday morning before training, so of course Kyle likes tea. He takes it with a dash of milk and half a teaspoon of sugar. If it’s stirred for anything less than thirty seconds, he’s not drinking it. If it’s anything other than scolding hot, he’s not drinking it.

_ Okay, okay.  _ John composes himself and sets the teapot back down on the dining table.  _ It’s a nice teapot. He’ll like the teapot.  _ And anyway, it’s not even about the teapot. It’s about what John has put inside. 

It was supposed to just be a couple of extra bonus gifts, little inside jokes to make Kyle laugh, but then John got carried away thinking of more and more things to add and now the teapot is full of odd bits and pieces that probably make no sense to anyone other than Kyle and John. 

There’s the sock that Kyle left in John’s locker two years ago and still claims isn’t his but John knows for a  _ fact  _ that it is. There’s the pen that Kyle signed his Man City contract with. There’s the tiny marble that John sometimes puts in Kyle’s boots before training to annoy him. There’s the stick men drawings they did of each other on post-it notes. There’s their tickets from the first time they went to Sea Life Aquarium together. There’s the business card from the first hotel they stayed at in Russia. There’s the photo booth print out from Christmas when they both wore ugly sweaters and got horrendously drunk at some terrible hipster pub in London. And then there’s all the other bits: the sachet of BBQ sauce, the ‘cash me outside’ note, the one pound coin, the broken headphones, the tiny Frodo figurine they stole from Pep. All the little bits that mean something to them and refer back to a defining moment in their friendship.

John is somewhat worried that Kyle might find the whole thing a bit lame, a bit too sappy. He worries that Kyle might laugh in front of everyone, or ask  _ what does this mean?  _ He worries Kyle won’t remember it all, or if he does, he might tease John for keeping the mementos. 

But that’s not John’s biggest worry. The biggest worry is the Christmas card he’s including in the teapot. The one that tells Kyle how he really feels.  _ That’s  _ why John is nervously pacing his kitchen with his mind spinning and his heart pounding.  _ That’s  _ why he keeps emptying the teapot and refilling it, removing the card and then quickly stuffing it back in. 

Because he’s about to tell Kyle everything.

John swiftly puts the lid on the teapot and tells himself that it’s done. This is the gift and even if Kyle hates the letter or tears it up and just ignores it, at the very least he’s getting a nice porcelain teapot full of trinkets. 

So John goes to bed and tries not to think about it. He lies awake for three hours and doesn’t think about it. He stares at the ceiling, pictures every possible reaction from Kyle, and  _ definitely  _ doesn’t think about it. 

\--

John’s heart is racing. 

He’s sitting around a large table in a fancy steak restaurant in central London and Gareth and Harry are handing out the Secret Santa gifts from a big black bin liner. Nobody knows who got who (except for Jesse, because he told everyone within thirty seconds flat that he got Marcus).

Gareth begins handing out odd-shaped gifts and everyone excitedly starts to unwrap at the dinner table.  

Eric gets a personalised snow globe. Inside is a little mini Eric Dier and a little mini goal and the scene is his penalty from the World Cup, but instead of snow it’s just mini red and white streamers. Harry Winks proudly owns up to the gift when everyone wants to know who has left Eric so speechless.

Trippier gets a new fancy headset for his PlayStation. It lights up and changes colour depending on how loud or how softly you speak into the microphone. 

Pickford gets a glamorous disco ball filled with his favourite chocolates. 

Harry Kane gets some expensive BBQ utensils and a ‘King of the Grill’ apron to match.

Dele gets two weekend passes to Disneyland in Orlando.

And then Kyle gets his teapot. John is dreading it, because really, how is he supposed to follow two weekend passes to Disneyland?

Kyle takes the teapot out of his box and stares at it for a few seconds. John feels his heart sink into his stomach because he’s 99% sure Kyle hates it, but then Kyle breaks out into a shit-eating grin and he’s looking around the room and asking who got this because he  _ loves it. _

John can’t bring himself to own up. He knows that once Kyle looks inside, it will become obvious anyway, but until then, he stays quiet and watches Kyle pick up the teapot for further inspection. He looks genuinely happy with his gift and there’s this stupid, radiating smile on his face that makes John feel light and giddy. 

He’s staring at Kyle when Kyle suddenly locks eyes on him. John looks away, starts enthusing with Dele about the Disneyland tickets, but when he looks back a minute later, Kyle is still watching him intently. 

_ He knows.  _

“There’s more inside,” John says quietly, pressing his lips together into a tight, nervous smile. All he can think about is the card and what is written inside.

Kyle looks back at the teapot excitedly and takes hold of the porcelain lid.

“Oh,” Kyle says, and his smile fades when he pulls out the photobooth strip. He looks at it for a long time and John swears Kyle actually frowns a little. John swallows around the lump in his throat. He wants to ask what’s wrong but he can’t even form the words. He’s absolutely devastated.  _ It’s the worst gift ever.  _

Kyle keeps pulling things out, an unreadable expression on his face. He takes out the BBQ sachet, the tickets from Sea Life, the tiny marble. He stops and studies each and every one of them. Eventually, he reaches inside and pulls the final items: the pen and the Christmas card. He sets the envelope down on the table and twirls the pen between his fingers.

“It’s from when you signed your contract,” John blurts out. Kyle looks at him and John worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“I love it,” Kyle chokes out, his voice strained. He smiles softly at John and gets up from his seat, walks around the table. 

Everyone ignores him because they’re too busy fussing over their own gifts. “I love it, John,” Kyle says again when John stands up to meet him halfway. Kyle throws his arms around John and John melts into the hug, relief flooding in his chest because Kyle is holding on to him so tightly and he keeps saying _I love it,_ _I love it,  I love it,_ over and over in John’s ear. 

“It’s just little things I’ve saved,” John begins, breaking away but not really leaving much distance between them. He inhales shakily and gestures back at the teapot. “Little bits, you know… it’s-” 

“It’s us,” Kyle finishes. 

John nods, biting back a smile. “Yeah, it’s us.”

“My favourite thing.” 

“Mine too,” John says. He grins, wide and happy and stupid because Kyle  _ loves  _ it and he loves Kyle. “There’s a card, too, but read it when you get home.” John knows his nerves are breaking through into his voice but he can’t help it, so he bites his bottom lip and rocks back on his heels. 

“I can’t open it now?” Kyle asks, frowning. 

John shakes his head adamantly. “When you get home.”  

“It better not be anything dirty!” Kyle laughs.

John shoves him lightly and shrugs. “Of course it isn’t.” 

Gareth interrupts their conversation when he walks up to John with a gift in his hand. It’s shaped like a box and meticulously wrapped with a gold bow placed neatly on top. John takes it and turns it over in his hand. The box rattles, and John’s first guess is a board game of some sort. 

“Open it then,” Kyle says excitedly. John watches him for a moment and his heart suddenly leaps into his throat. 

“Did you get me? Is this from you?” John asks hopefully. Kyle shakes his head sadly and gestures towards Kieran across the table, who is wearing his headset even though it’s not plugged into anything. 

“I got Tripps,” Kyle says. He hesitates for a moment and then adds, “I asked to get you, but Gareth wouldn’t let me fix it.”

John punches him playfully on the shoulder, grinning. “What would you have got me?” He asks. He hasn’t even opened the gift in his hands yet but he’s already thinking about what Kyle might have got him instead. 

Behind him, Dele is giving Winks a piggyback around the room, shouting about how he’s going to take Winks to Disney World.

“A Sheffield mug, an “I love Kyle Walker” poster, you know…” Kyle begins, shooting John a cheeky wink at the end. “No, I um, I found this scratch map, you know where you scratch off places you’ve been and it’s like colourful underneath? I was going to get that and scratch off all the countries we’ve been to together. Frame it, too.”

John can hardly move, hardly talk. All at once, he feels the weight of his affection for Kyle. He’s lost count of how many countries he and Kyle have visited together over the years with City and with England. It would be a bright, colourful map, lit up with all the colours of the rainbow. 

“But like I said,” Kyle continues, distracted by Dele and Winks zooming by again. “Gareth wouldn’t let me fix it. I got Tripps.” 

John shrugs and pulls his mouth into a small smile. He echoes one of the life lessons that Kyle is always telling him, “ _ It’s the the thought that counts _ .”

“It is indeed, John!” Kyle laughs. He taps the box in John’s hand and beckons for him to open it. “Come on, then!” 

John tears the paper from the box to reveal a Manchester special edition of Monopoly. It’s actually a great gift and John spends a few moments pouring over the details, looking at the names of the streets and the new features. When he glances around the room, he notices Marcus watching him from the corner of the room. John gives him a little nod and Marcus smiles before ducking his head. 

“So this card,” Kyle says, heading back around the table to his seat. John sets his game down on the table and makes a grab for the card before Kyle can reach it. 

“Not until you get home,” John says seriously. He’s trying not to make a big deal of it, but he’s worried someone will pick it up and open it, or Kyle will teasingly open it now, right in front of him. Even worse, he might read it aloud. “Promise me?” 

Kyle pouts for a moment but then relents. He nods and holds out his hand. “I promise,” he says. 

John holds his eye contact for a moment. The way Kyle is looking at him, it feels like he can already read the letter just from John’s expression. He keeps tilting his head and narrowing his gaze a little, staring at John like he’s trying to figure him out. 

John is almost certain Kyle already had his him figured out, but he keeps his cool anyway. With a sheepish smile, he hands the letter back to Kyle and watches as Kyle stuffs it away in his jacket pocket. 

“When I get home,” Kyle repeats, winking. 

\--

It’s completely silent in John’s house. He sits at his kitchen table, staring at the wall in front of him and listening to the rhythmic, monotonous ticking of the clock. He counts each second and chews the inside of his mouth, waiting.  

Every thirty to forty seconds, he checks his phone. Still nothing. 

He’s been home for thirty minutes now, which means Kyle should have been home for at least fifteen. Fifteen minutes is surely enough time to have read the letter. 

Which means he’s read it, but he has nothing to say, because John has had no messages, no calls, no nothing. Kyle has read the letter and John has no idea how he’s reacted to it. 

With a groan, John lets his head fall into his arms on the table. He closes his eyes and sighs. How could he be so stupid? How could he think this letter would lead to anything other than awkwardness and rejection? And now he has to see Kyle everyday in training and, what? Act like the letter never existed? Act like it doesn't matter that Kyle never called or messaged? Act like he isn’t completely and utter in- 

John’s thought process is derailed by the door bell. The loud, sharp ringing fills every corner of the silent house, and John cautiously gets up from his seat to answer it.

Kyle is standing on the other side of the door, wrapped up tight in a grey coat. He turns to John and grins when John swings the door open. 

“Hi, John!” He greets. 

John freezes on the spot, tries to get his brain to work long enough to tell him what the hell he’s supposed to say. Kyle is here, at his house, grinning like an idiot, and John is incapable of stringing together a single coherent sentence. 

So he just steps aside, and Kyle walks into his house and shakes off his coat. 

“Hi, Kyle,” John finally croaks. Kyle looks positively mischievous and John has no clue what is happening right now. 

“I was on my way home and I read your letter. I know you said to read it when I was home, and I technically broke the promise because I read it on my  _ way  _ home, but I couldn’t wait.” 

John takes a deep breath and nods. Kyle is here, at his house, still grinning. He doesn’t look angry or annoyed or upset. He just looks genuinely happy and a little flustered from the cold weather. 

“Make us a tea, John, come on,” Kyle says, shaking his head at John’s poor hospitality. John nods. A tea. He can make a tea. Half a teaspoon of sugar and stirred for no less than thirty seconds.

The nerves begin to wash away as John makes them both a cup of tea. Kyle sits at the kitchen table and rolls an orange around, pushing it from one hand to the other across the wooden table. John watches him, smiling.  _ He read the letter and came straight here,  _ he thinks.  _ He wouldn’t come here if he was angry.  _

“Here.” John sets a mug of hot tea down in front of Kyle and takes the seat next to him, warming his hands on his own mug. 

“Thank you, John,” Kyle says in his over-the-top, politest tone. 

John chuckles and studies him for a moment, waiting to see if Kyle will bring up the letter again.  

“What’s put you in a good mood?” John asks, attempting to mirror Kyle’s light-hearted tone, even though he can feel his heart hammering anxiously beneath his ribs.

“Well, John,” Kyle begins. “My best friend got me the nicest Christmas present.”

“Oh yeah?” John asks, playing along. He bites back his smile and turns the mug in his hands. 

“It was incredible. Gorgeous green teapot, filled with all these little memories we’ve shared. Everything from little drawings we did of each other to the pen I signed my contract with to our tickets from Sea Life. Oh, he  _ loved  _ Sea Life, John. You should have seen his face when we were there. He was so cute, staring at all the fish. His favourite film is Finding Nemo so it makes sense.” 

John wonders if it’s possible for his heart to actually burst out of his chest. He’s desperately trying to hold back his smile, trying to play it cool, but his heart is  _ aching  _ and his stomach is in knots and Kyle is looking at him with soft brown eyes and a playful smirk. 

“It’s a good film,” John comments. His voice breaks a little but he hopes Kyle doesn’t notice. 

“Great film,” Kyle confirms. “The teapot had a letter in it too.” 

John stays silent and swallows around the lump that has settled in his throat. 

“He told me he loves me, which, I knew anyway. I mean, I thought he might. He sometimes looks at me like I’m the only person in the world.” 

John nods. It’s about all he can manage. 

“He said he thinks about kissing me sometimes.” 

_ All the time,  _ John thinks. 

“He said he loves me, but not in the same way he loves all of his other teammates. He said it’s different with me.” 

_ It’s always been different with you.  _

“He said he wanted to tell me because it’s Christmas, and Christmas is about telling people how you really feel.” 

John nods again, lips sealed shut. He lets Kyle continue talking. 

“So I thought I’d go over to his house and tell him that I’m happy he told me,” Kyle pauses while he holds John’s gaze. John ducks his head nervously and Kyle shuffles closer. “I’m glad he told me, John, because I feel the same way.” 

John looks up. Kyle’s still grinning, but there’s something else behind his smile, something serious and meaningful and genuine. 

“The same way?” John repeats. He just… needs to be sure. Kyle laughs and nods. 

“The same way. I sometimes want to kiss him too.” 

John nods. The smile he’s been holding back finally breaks free, and he can’t stop it spreading across his face. He picks up his tea and sips it, doesn’t even care that it scolds his tongue. 

Kyle does the same, making a shocked yet impressed face. “This is good tea, John.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love this tea. I love everything about this tea. You know that right?” Kyle shuffles closer again in his seat. “You know I’ve always loved tea?” 

“You’ve always loved tea,” John repeats quietly. He says it again, slowly, in his head.  _ Kyle has always loved tea.  _ He knows that, that’s why he got him the teapot. That’s why he wrote him the letter. Because Kyle loves tea.

_ Kyle loves you.  _ The realisation settles into place.  _ It’s you he loves.  _

“Best Secret Santa ever,” Kyle says, shrugging. He reaches across the table and takes John’s hand from his mug. It takes John a few seconds to realise what is happening, to realise Kyle is lacing their fingers together. “You nailed it.”

“Yeah?” John looks at their hands. His throat is too tight to say anything more, even though there are so many things he’s desperate to say. Kyle is rubbing the skin on the back of his hand and John can’t take his eyes away from it. 

“John,” Kyle leans in and lifts John’s chin, forces him to meet his gaze. “I love you.” 

_ He loves you.  _

_ You love him.  _

Kyle leans in and kisses him. It’s light, gentle, and John almost breaks away. But then he relaxes, tells himself Kyle wants this and he wants this and they’re  _ allowed to do this.  _ Kyle rests his fingers on the back of John’s neck and kisses him deeper. John melts into it. 

Suddenly, John breaks away, a big grin stretching across his face. Kyle looks him up and down, confused. 

“What?” 

“You taste like tea,” John laughs. Kyle rolls his eyes. “I like it. It’s nice.” 

“Shut up, John,” Kyle says, only half-seriously. He leans in again and captures John in another sweet kiss. 

John can’t believe he ever doubted himself. Kyle  _ loves  _ tea. 


End file.
